Tattooed Angel

I was doing it again.

Telling myself I'd fill up the car after one more errand. And then forgetting. Again.

I pulled into the garage and realized I'd have to get gas before I went to get my mom from the airport. There was no way I'd make it there and back. The Out-of-Gas light had been on for almost 2 days.

And then I forgot. Until I was on 95, in the HOV lanes, just about to the Franconia exit, and the car started not responding, the dashboard lights lit up, and I realized I had forgotten one time too many. Dang it!

In case you're not form Northern Virginia, a word about HOV lanes might be in order. These lanes are blocked off with cement barriers-- dedicated lanes with limited access and very limited exits. It's not like you can pull over and be anywhere. Except still stuck in the middle of the freeway.

I began to pray out loud. "Please let me get to a gas station. Please, please, help me get off this road and to a gas station." I looked through the darkness at the exit in front of me. Uphill and around a curve. Both things that require more energy than my car had left. I pictured myself walking up the hill in the dark, talking to my mom on my cell phone as I explained why I was late to pick her up.

Why had I not filled up? And now I was expecting God to bail me out?

Yes, pretty much. At least I was hoping He might.

I prayed harder.

Now, in case you are wondering (and if you know me very well, you are not wondering. you already know) ... this was not the first time I'd run out of gas in my Prius. I'm sorry to say, I was already well-acquainted with what my little car could do on battery power alone. The answer is: Not Much. A few hundred feet if the road was level. No corners. Definitely no hills. Unless we were coasting down them.

I got to the hill saying, "Come on! Please let me make it!" And the car kept going. And going! Right up the hill... and around the corner! The light at the top of the hill changed to yellow and my car actually picked up speed and made it through the light! I couldn't figure it out. I wanted to look behind me to see who was pushing, but I was too busy praying and looking for a gas station.

There wasn't one. I was on Franconia and took the first exit-- downhill-- praying all the way that a gas station might appear in front of me. I had never taken this particular HOV exit before and wasn't sure exactly where it ended. And then suddenly I was at...

the metro stop?

Oh crumb. I knew exactly where I was. And I was pretty darn sure there was no gas station anywhere nearby. "Come on! Keep going! Please help me keep going!"

The car slowed and coasted to a stop just before,but not quite in, a stripped bit of the road where I could safely leave it. I put the car in neutral, opened the door and tried pushing it 50 feet into the safe zone.

Ha. Right. Like I can push a Prius.

I looked up and there was a guy. One guy. With a backpack. Walking up from the metro. I waved and said, "Excuse me? Could you help me push my car into that stripped area?" (technical term)

He pushed and I steered and we got it out of the way of oncoming city busses. I got out to thank him and he said, "Run out of gas?" (Nope. I just like pushing my car around.) "Do you have someone coming to help you?"

Now, I'd ben thinking about this, and I'd already decided I was not calling for help. I was far enough from home that it would take anyone as long to get to me as it would for me to hike to a gas station. Besides, talk about embarrassing. I'm not a damsel in distress. I can handle it. Whatever "it" is.

So I said, "No." And he gave me an Are-You Kidding? look. I shrugged. "I can walk." He pulled his backpack up onto his shoulder and said, "I just live right there," pointing to the apartments across the street. "And I have a gas can. Give me a few minutes. I'll be back." He had a cigarette tucked behind one ear, a knit cap on his head and an impressive array of tattoo artwork across his arms and neck. I considered the situation. "Are you sure?" He nodded. "I promise. I'll be back. Give me 15-- no, better say 20 minutes. I really will be back." I considered the possible things he might be back for, but at the same time felt certain this was fine. He was just a helpful guy with a gas can. Not a rapist. I smiled. "Thank you. That would be really good."

I got back in my car and looked at the time on my phone. 20 minutes. I turned off my lights so the battery wouldn't die and watched busses swerve to avoid hitting me. And I thought. How had I made it here? Up the hill, around the corner, through the light, off the main road, onto a safe bit of ground, right in front of a guy who lives across the street with a gas can.

Wow.

My phone rang and it was my mom. Surprise! Her plane had landed early! I was embarrassed to tell her where I was, but she took it in stride. Perhaps she knows me. I told her a guy had gone to get a gas can. I didn't mention the cigarette or the tattoos. I pulled out my wallet to see how much cash I had. Since my bank account had $0, I figured I'd better be prepared to offer this guy something for his troubles, while making sure I had enough left to get gas to make it home.

At 21 minutes I saw him in my rearview mirror. He was in a car and he pulled up in front of me and jumped out, gas can in hand. "I ran to the gas station and got a couple of gallons." I stared at him for a full 30 seconds before I remembered to say, "Thank you!" and open the gas cap. He poured in the gas while I stood by feeling silly and noticing his tattoos were of Celtic patterns. Not that I'm a fan of tattoos, but if I were...

He finished with the gas and I pulled out my wallet. "How much can I pay you?" "Nothing." I laughed. "No really," I said. "You ran home and to the gas station and bought gas. At least let me pay you for the gas." But he shook his head. "No. It's all right." He gave me directions to the nearest gas station, told me to have a good night, and was gone.

I drove to the gas station and put in a couple more dollars' worth, all the while thinking how he didn't look anything like I'd pictured angels, and wondering about the angels sent to push my car up the hill, around the corner, through the light and right in front of this guy. Do they have tattoos too?